A RESCUE BY THE WAY
As soon as they were out a short distance from the shore the ever-present
current took hold of the boat, and they found that they were beginning to
move down the river.
Jack worked hard at his task. He knew it would be to their advantage to
get as far away from the bank as possible before passing the places
where the Serbs had lain in ambush. There would be less danger of their
presence on the water being discovered in that case.
Josh hovered near by. Unable to resist the temptation, he finally took
hold of the pole while Jack was pushing, and “leaned on it” in a way to
render considerable assistance.
Everything seemed to be working in a satisfactory manner so far as
making good progress went. If it kept up for a few minutes more Jack
believed they would have achieved their end.
A single shot coming from further down the river on the northern bank
gave him some little cause for uneasiness lest the fierce bombardment
break out again. It proved to be a false alarm, since nothing followed,
the Serbs never even taking the trouble to respond to the invitation.
They had taken up new positions, and apparently were averse to letting
the enemy “feel them out.”
Now they must have reached the place where the swaying bridge made of
heavy planks laid upon successive pontoon boats had a short while before
been in the process of completion.
It gave the boys a queer sensation to remember this. Over the spot which
they were now passing had swept that hurricane of missiles, mowing down
the engineers engaged in bridge building as though they might be wheat
falling before the reaper.
All was clear now, not a sign of the recent dreadful engagement being
visible. Further down the river doubtless there would be met with
fragments of the wrecked bridge. Jack knew that later on they would have
to keep on the lookout for all such obstacles to a safe passage; but
there would be little or no danger up to the time they started the
engine and increased their pace.
About that time, when all of them felt exceedingly nervous over the
possibility of being fired upon, possibly Buster may not have been the
only one of the little party who called himself a fool for having
accepted this risk.
It was too late now for vain regrets, however; they had made their beds
and must lie in them.
“Well, we’re past that awful place, anyway,” whispered Buster presently;
and no doubt, while the others did not echo his words, they felt just
about as the stout chum did.
“Do you know,” Josh was saying cautiously, “the way that bridge went to
pieces made me think of a house of cards when you blow at it.”
“Please don’t talk any more just now,” asked Jack; “we’re still too
close to the bank, and you might be heard.”
“Correct!” said Josh, which in his vernacular was as much as asking Jack
to excuse his break.
After they had floated along for some time, and Jack figured that they
must by then have covered all of two miles, he decided it would be safe
to start the engine. Of course, this could not be done without more or
less popping and similar noise, try the best he was able; but Jack
figured that the Serbs would not open fire for several good and
sufficient reasons.
In the first place, they knew they had nothing to fear from one small
launch, no matter if it were an enemy craft. Then again, as the Austrian
Red Cross was undoubtedly searching for victims of that fusillade, there
was a chance that this might be one of their units pursuing a mission
of mercy.
Accordingly Jack started things up.
The engine responded readily to treatment, much to the satisfaction of
Buster, who had been entertaining serious fears. The motor had proved
tricky on one other occasion, he remembered, and on this account he
wondered what they would ever do should it go back on them again.
They were now in the war zone, and it would hardly be possible to get
repairs made and secure permission to continue down the Danube on their
cruise.
Of course, Jack did not think to put on a full head of power; that would
hardly have been wise while they were apt to come upon floating remnants
of the bridge at any time.
“Josh, you can help me now if you want to,” he presently told the other.
“Give your orders, then, Commodore.”
“Crawl up forward, and keep as close a watch on the water as you can,”
Jack told him. “I mean directly in front of us, because it might get us
in trouble if we ran smack into one of those pontoons out here in the
middle of the river.”
“I get your meaning, all right,” responded Josh, starting to carry the
plan out. “I’ll call myself the lookout man, and signal you to back her
in case I see any sign of trouble ahead.”
“Give a sharp whistle, and I’ll know what that means,” the skipper told
him.
So Josh crept past Jack and sprawled there in the extreme bow. He
possessed good eyesight, and was likely to discover any floating object
long before they were in danger of striking the same.
Buster, too, strained his eyes in order to try and supplement the good
work; but George contented himself with lolling there in a comfortable
position. What was the use, he doubtless figured, of everybody getting
excited? If later on Josh wanted some one to “spell” him George would be
quite willing to assume the responsibility; but he did not mean to wear
out his eyes when not on duty. And no doubt George was quite right.
Things were going on so well that every one felt much encouraged. Buster
was even trying to figure on what sort of speed they were making, and
where they would arrive if able to keep on at this pace all through that
night.
“Jack said it was about a hundred miles down to the Iron Gate,” he told
himself, “where the river makes a turn and starts to divide Serbia from
Rumania. Wonder if we could make half of that between now and morning,
and what would we do through the day? I must ask Jack first chance I
get if he thinks it would be safe for us to keep on down the river by
daylight, with soldiers guarding every mile of the banks and ordering us
to come ashore and explain who we are.”
Just then Buster gave a sudden start, for Josh had whistled sharply.
Jack instantly cut off the power and then started to reverse the engine
so that their headway might be reduced to next to nothing.
“Steady, Jack; we’re going to come alongside a pontoon that seems to be
partly filled with water!” said Josh in a stage whisper.
He leaned still further over the bow, as though bent upon reaching out
to fend off from the object that was floating like a derelict upon the
bosom of the great river.
“I’ve got it all right, fellows,” Josh continued saying; “and would you
believe it, there’s a wounded man in the same! Guess he’d have gone down
in less’n ten minutes only for our coming along.”
“What’s that you say, Josh?” asked Buster eagerly, “a wounded man! How
do you know but what he’s dead?”
“Because he’s sitting up here,” came the prompt reply.
Jack knew what that meant. They could not leave a poor fellow badly
injured to go down with the leaking pontoon.
“We’ve got to get him aboard here, that’s flat!” said George, as though
voicing what was passing through the mind of each of his chums just
then.
Jack left the wheel and, passing along the side of the boat, leaned
over. Yes, there was a man in the sinking pontoon. He did not appear
to know whether they would turn out to be friends or foes; but his
situation was desperate, and upon seeing several heads appear in view
he commenced saying something in a weak voice.
“That’s Magyar, of course,” remarked George; “but the trouble is none of
us can translate a word of the same. However, that doesn’t make any
difference. Shall we help him over the side, Jack?”
“Three of us can do the business, easy enough,” responded the other.
When the Austrian engineer realized that they meant him to leave his
wretched float and clamber into the motorboat, he lost no time in
starting to obey; though his actions quickly told them he must be very
weak, either through loss of blood or from the shock of his wound.
Once he was deposited in the cabin, Jack sent Josh again to the lookout,
and himself started the engine. The man had sunk upon the cushioned
seat as though quite content to take things as he found them. He heard
these unknown parties speaking in what he must have known was English,
and was no doubt much astonished. Just the main thing with him was being
rescued from the fate that had been threatening him with a watery grave.
“Jack, he’s pretty badly hurt, I reckon,” suggested George soon
afterward.
“Well, something ought to be done for him, that’s certain,” the skipper
started to say. “Do you think you could manage it, George? I don’t want
to give up the wheel, and Josh is really needed forward there.”
George did not hesitate long. He guessed that it might be anything but a
pleasant task, but then George had learned long ago not to shrink
because things were not always delightful.
“I’m willing to do the best I can, Jack,” he said quickly.
“I knew you would, George, and there’s not one of us can dress a wound
better than you, once you set your mind to the job. Get Buster to help
you, George.”
“Sure I will,” spoke up the stout chum, “though I’m not clever at
handling sick people, and always shiver at sight of blood. But you’ll
need some kind of light to work by, won’t you, George?”
“Wait,” said Jack. “You remember I’ve got that little vest pocket
electric torch. I’ve been saving it because I’m afraid the battery will
soon run out. But this is just the time to make use of it.”
He thereupon handed Buster the article in question, a small nickeled
affair not over three inches in length. When the button was pressed
there came a shaft of light that was fairly strong.
“Just the ticket, Jack,” announced George, who was removing his coat
with a business-like air that quite tickled Buster, who thought George
already seemed to take on a professional look.
They could now see that the man taken from the sinking pontoon was a
young Austrian soldier. He had no marks on his uniform to prove him
anything save a private, but that made no difference to the boys. They
had seen how those engineering corps men had taken their lives in their
hands in order to bridge the Danube so that the artillery might be
transported across to the other bank, and had also watched them going
down by scores when that furious fire burst out from the hidden Serbian
trenches. On this account they must honor him as a brave man.
He knew what George was about to do. Perhaps, after all, taking off his
coat was the sign that made his intentions clear to one who could not
understand English very well.
Buster shut his teeth hard when the light focussed on the man showed
that one of his arms was bloody. Still he did not quail, for Buster
could do a thing once he put his mind to it.
George set to work. The Austrian soldier understood that he was to
help as well as he could, and between them they managed to get the
water-soaked coat off. Then the sleeve of his shirt was carefully rolled
up, disclosing the wound.
It was enough to make one with a stouter heart than Buster shudder, for
the cut was severe, and had bled a great deal. From his pack George took
some linen bandages, without which his mother would not have let him
leave home. He had other appliances in the bargain, among which was
surgeon’s adhesive plaster, with which to keep the ends of bandages in
place.
First of all George proceeded to wash the wound, Buster getting him some
water from the river in a tin basin they carried. After that he applied
the soothing salve that was intended to purify and take away some of the
pain that would be sure to follow on the morrow.
Jack glanced in every little while, and saw that George was getting on
splendidly, having tied a tourniquet above the wound in order to stop
the bleeding. He was now engaged in winding a bandage tightly around the
arm in a most professional way.
The man appeared to be very grateful. He said something once in a while,
but as none of them could understand a word of Magyar they had to guess
at its meaning. Actions speak louder than mere words, however, so they
knew that the patient appreciated their efforts in his behalf, and that
he was trying to tell them as much.
Finally, to the great relief of Buster, the job was done, and the man
had his coat on again, though that left sleeve hung empty at his side.
“And I want to say, George,” remarked Buster, as he shut off the light
and handed the little pocket torch back to the owner, “that you did the
job up as neat as wax. If ever I have the misfortune to get jabbed by a
bullet I want to engage you as the chief surgeon right now. I’d feel
myself in good hands, all right.”
Of course, this pleased George very much. It was not so very often that
he did anything to call for such fulsome praise; but he knew Buster
meant every word he uttered, because Buster was candid and sincere.
“I’m beginning to wonder what will strike us next,” George went on to
say. “We are sure neutral in this world war, because one day we hold
out a helping hand to a couple of young Serbs in trouble, and right
afterwards pick a wounded Austrian out of a sinking pontoon and look
after his hurts.”
“Well, that’s the way it goes,” asserted Buster, with a philosophical
air. “You never can tell what will happen, and especially when there’s a
silly old war on. We may run across others who are clinging to fragments
of that bridge until we gather up a boatload.”
“Then there’d be nothing else for us to do but run over to the Austrian
side of the river and land the whole bunch,” George told him.
Josh meanwhile had kept a good lookout. Several times he sighted other
pontoons and floating planks, but as they did not happen to be in the
direct way of the motorboat he had not given the warning whistle to
cause Jack to stop.
He had watched in every case to ascertain whether there happened to be
occupants to these boats, but discovered none. If men had floated away
on them when the Serbian gun smashed the bridge, they must either have
made their way to the shore and been taken off by search parties or else
gone down into the depths.
By degrees, however, these reminders of the dreadful tragedy became
fewer and fewer until Josh failed to discover any more of them. From
this he decided that, owing to the increased momentum attained for the
motorboat by the use of its engine, they had by this time distanced all
drifting snags. Still he clung to his post until another ten minutes had
elapsed, when he came back to where Jack sat.
“We’ve got beyond all the floaters, Jack,” he remarked, “and anyway my
eyes begin to feel the strain. So I thought I’d just drop in and find
out what your plan of campaign might be.”
“Do you mean for to-night?” asked the pilot at the wheel.
“Sure thing, Jack. We’re moving right now at a healthy pace, but how
long do you mean to keep the same up, I’d like to know?”
Jack took a look aloft. He found that the same conditions prevailed
there, with the heavens covered with clouds so that the moon was
entirely shrouded from view.
“If things continued like that up there,” he assured Josh, “I’d feel
like keeping on the move the whole night long. We’ll have to hide
somewhere in the daytime so as to keep from getting into trouble; and
perhaps to-morrow night we can cover the balance of the distance
separating us from the Iron Gate.”
“But how will you be able to stand it?” demanded Josh, indignantly.
“Oh, I can make up for lost sleep to-morrow, you know; there’ll be
really nothing else to do the whole day long but sleep. And if I find
myself getting too dopey for any use, why, I can call on George or you
to take hold. It’s all right, Josh, and please don’t waste any pity on
me. I’m only too glad to be able to cover half that hundred miles before
dawn comes on.”
Josh knew better than to dispute Jack when his mind was made up.
Besides, that arrangement just suited his own ideas.
George had been listening to this talk, also Buster.
“I don’t call it fair for you to take all the burden on your shoulders,
Jack,” expostulated the former; “especially when the rest of us are
willing to do our part.”
“Oh, so far as that goes, George,” he was told, “you’re all under
orders, you know; but if I get tired I promise to call on you for
help.”